Marcus Aurelius, Meditations 6.2

Let it make no difference to you whether you are cold or warm, if you are doing your duty.

And whether you are drowsy or satisfied with sleep. And whether ill-spoken of or praised. And whether dying or doing something else.

For it is one of the acts of life, this act by which we die. It is sufficient then in this act also to do well what we have in hand.

—Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, Book 6 (tr Long)

I often think that our sense of what we consider admirable in others is quite disordered. We praise those who seek first and foremost to rule their circumstances, and we say that they are strong, determined, or brave. At the same time, we have little respect for those who seek first and foremost to rule only themselves, and we say that they are weak, insecure, or timid.

Yet those in the first group are making their lives rise or fall with what is outside of them, and through what is ultimately beyond their power, while those in the second group concentrate on what is within them, and what is rightly under their power. We venerate those who don’t mind their own business of living well, and we dismiss those who do.

By all means, give me worldly achievements and success, but I am a fool if I think these are in any way mine at all, and I am mistaken if I think I am stronger by being enslaved to my circumstances. It is also not necessarily any easier to live life with more external trappings than it is to live with fewer, as anyone who has suffered deeply in prosperity can tell you.

The critical point in life, where the rubber meets the road, is whether or not I will act with conscience and conviction, whatever may happen to come along. I shouldn’t strive to live with more and more, but I should strive to live better and better. Getting more conveniences is a passive reliance, while doing more out of duty is an active commitment.

Being just, kind, or honest doesn’t depend on whether I am warm or cold, rested or tired, esteemed or despised. It doesn’t even depend on whether I am busy living or dying, because the man who lives well will also die well.

I used to roll my eyes when I heard that famous phrase from Lakota Chief Low Dog, “This is a good day to die.” I now appreciate it much more, because I have seen extremes of plenty and of want, of pleasure and of pain, of success and of disappointment, and I recognize that neither one is any better than the other. So too, neither living nor dying are any better. I must only do right with what I have in hand. 

Written in 9/2006

IMAGE: Chief Low Dog, c. 1881.